


You Drive Me Crazy, Kid.

by ObligatoryNasty



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Daddy Kink, Fluff and Smut, M/M, Peter Parker is Eighteen, Random & Short, Smut, Starker, Tags Are Hard, powerless!peter parker, tony is still iron man tho
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-28
Updated: 2019-10-01
Packaged: 2020-10-29 17:27:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 13,433
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20800205
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ObligatoryNasty/pseuds/ObligatoryNasty
Summary: Tony Stark has fired every driver he's had for weeks. Pepper and Rhodey are tired of his BS and force him to use a rideshare app, but jokes on them because Peter Parker rolls up and immediately catches Tony's eye.





	1. Heartbeats Don't Come from Gifts

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into Русский available: [You Drive Me Crazy, Kid.](https://archiveofourown.org/works/25159708) by [snowkido](https://archiveofourown.org/users/snowkido/pseuds/snowkido)

“No, Rhodey,” Tony shook his head, the middle of his brow furrowing and wrinkling like his last shred of patience. “A good driver is like a good barber: knows what you want, not annoying, and cute.” Currently, he was stuck in the lobby of Stark Tower, sitting in a suede armchair like it was a throne and arguing with his exasperated friend about the driver he just fired.

Rhodes sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose at the sheer audacity of his friend’s comments. “You’ve fired too many drivers, Tony. Cute shouldn’t be viable criteria here. I think you should start with: can drive.”

“Plenty of people can drive, Rhodey, but not all of them are suited to drive around greatness.” Tony flashed a smug grin, and through his sunglasses, his eyes gleamed with self-pleasure aimed at his own wit. He was a busy man, after all; tech demonstrations, business meetings, iron-clad super-heroics.

“Okay, hotshot, let’s dial back the arrogance.” Despite his frustration, Rhodes smiled at his friend’s comments, knowing that Tony will be Tony and certain battles are best ended with laughter. “So, then what will you do today? You have a meeting in ten and you just sent off your third disgruntled driver this week. Pep’s concerned.”

“Well, Pep found the last three, have her get me another one.” Tony shrugged, not particularly alarmed by his tardiness. A meeting with Tony Stark is a meeting worth the wait, and he carried himself with that energy like followers to religion.

“Well, now I owe Pepper twenty bucks. She knew you would say that.” Rhodes laughed as he grabbed Tony’s phone from the coffee table, “Oh, good, a driver was only a minute away.”

Tony stared up at Rhodes with a lifted brow and gloating smirk, “See? Pepper must have sent a new one. I knew there was a reason I keep her around.”

“Very funny, Mr. Stark,” Rhodey joked dryly. “Come on now. The driver’s here.”

“Lead the way, platypus,” Tony used one of the many names logged under Rhodey in his brain as he stood from the armchair and followed his friend towards the front doors. Outside, there were no sleek black sports cars, no black windowed SUVs, no flair, no style, just a prehistoric bucket of a car with a ride-share logo sticker half-adhered to the side window.

“Rhodey?”

“Yes, Tony?”

“Is the driver here, Rhodey?”

Rhodey held his breath to keep his laughter at bay, but with one look at Tony’s stunned face, it burst free. “Yes, he’s right there.” He said with a huge grin, gesturing to the old vehicle that probably had stained fabric seats and a squeak when the wheels turned too hard.

“Rhodey-”

“It’s a ride-share app, Tony.” Rhodey placed a hand on his disbelieving friend’s back and ushered him down the front steps of Stark Tower. “You get a new driver every time and, if you don’t like them, you can just call for another. Perfect, right?”

“This was Pep’s idea, wasn’t it?” Tony sighed, noting the rust building on the back wheel of the car. “She does this kind of thing when I ask her for-”

“Frivolous things?” Rhodes offered with a look Tony came to know as the ‘is-that-really-what-you-were-going-say’ face.

“I was going to say the finer things in life, but to each his own.” Tony shrugged with fake surrender. “I’m going up to the lab. Send him away and tell Pep to bring someone serious.” He turned towards the building, ready to forgo the meeting and work on suit upgrades, but instead, he froze, compelled into stillness by the voice that called after him.

“Um, excuse me! Mr. Stark, right? I’m your- I’m the ride-share driver you ordered.”

Tony spun on his heel to catch a glimpse of the beauty behind the voice and _oh fuck_ was he a beauty. The kid looked barely legal, sporting a graphic tank-top, a waist-tied plaid shirt, and jeans so skinny you could see every curve in his toned legs. His hair was well-kempt, but Tony could only imagine it messy and bouncing around his face as he rode Tony’s dick all the way to orgasm. He had submissive eyes that flickered to just about everything except the rich man before him. Oh, how Tony wanted to force those eyes to only look at him.

“Never mind, Rhodey,” Tony placed a hand on his friend’s shoulder and retrieved his phone from his hand. “I’m actually running late, and this meeting is _so important_. This will just have to do for now I suppose.”

Rhodes gave Tony a knowing smirk, “So the third criteria outweighs your repulsion to normal shit?”

“Something like that,” Tony grinned.

Rhodey shook his head, “Enjoy your ride, Tony.”

“Will do,” Tony nodded, watching his friend disappear into the building before turning his focus on his future plaything. “You going to stand there all day, or are you going to get the door for me?”

“Oh! Um, right. Right! Sorry- I, um,” The way the kid stumbled over his words and hurried around the car to open the front passenger door was cute. Exactly what Tony wanted. “Here, Mr. Stark.”

Tony smirked, “Thanks, kid.”

“You’re welcome!” His voice dripped with nerves, and it continued dripping in the way he awkwardly shut the door, scurried around the car, and fumbled with his seat belt. His slender hand reached up to the makeshift phone mount to confirm the pickup in the app, “Is this- um, is the address correct, Mr. Stark?” He pointed to the destination address in the app. It was ten minutes away.

“Sure,” Tony smirked, not caring if the address was wrong. If it was, then he would get more time with his newest, adorable conquest.

The kid nodded, and with his hands tensing at ten and two, he pulled away from Stark Tower. Despite the dilapidated look of the outside, the kid’s car was very clean and cozy. The first few minutes of the ride was spent in silence. Tony busied his mind with the purposefully frayed slits in the kid’s jeans that exposed enough of his thigh that the older man’s hand twitched in temptation. The aroma filling the car was sweet and flowery, and it definitely wasn’t wafting from the rumpled pine tree air freshener hanging from the rearview mirror.

“Um, Mr. Stark?” The kid spoke but he kept his eyes trained on the road in front of him.

Tony pulled himself from his thoughts. “Yeah, kid?”

“Not to- I mean, I don’t want to be rude or anything.” The timid way the kid spoke did things to Tony that he didn’t want to admit. “Do you...use ride-shares often?”

“First time,” Tony crossed his arms and leaned back against the gray fabric seats. “My friends think I fire too many drivers.”

The kid’s stifled giggle also did things to Tony that he didn’t want to admit, and don’t get him started on the kid’s smile. “Well, I’ll do my best for you, Mr. Stark.”

Tony didn’t know what that sound was but he was fairly certain that it was the sound of his sanity crumbling under the weight of the kid’s words. “Hey, what’s your name, kid?”

“Oh, you didn’t see it in the app?” His words made Tony glance at his phone, and sure enough, the kid’s name was there in big black letters.

“Peter?” Tony smirked. “Very fitting, very cute.”

“Oh, um, thanks.” The way Peter shifted awkwardly in his seat and the way his face flushed pink just made Tony want to tease him more. So he did.

Tony stared at the passing buildings, keeping a stoic face as he said, “Do you like it long, usually?”

Peter flinched at Tony’s words, “E-Excuse me?”

“The trips.” Tony grinned, pleased with the reaction he managed to pull from the kid. “Do you prefer longer trips?”

“Oh!” Peter let out a quick, relieved breath. “Yes, I make more money on longer trips.”

“And you’re such a good driver.” Tony leaned against the center console, brushing his arm against Peter’s. “I bet all your customers say you give amazing rides.”

“I, um, I have a pretty high rating, I guess.” Peter probably thought Tony didn’t hear the little squeak he made as their arms touched, but Tony heard it.

“Do you like riding, Peter?” Tony said smoothly, continuing the tease.

“Yes,” Peter breathed out but then blushed, catching himself in a Freudian slip. “What I mean is-! I like giving rides. Wait, no, um...I like my job! It helps pay for my college housing, so yeah.”

Tony chuckled at the reaction, “What about tips?”

“I don’t get many tips actually.” Peter nervously gripped at the steering wheel and glanced at his phone. They were only two minutes away from the destination.

“Well, I can’t wait to give you _my tip_.” Tony was enjoying every second of the tease.

Peter inhaled sharply, but then gave a sly smile, “I would love that, Mr. Stark.” It was Tony’s turn to blush. He did not expect the kid to play along. The active participation only made Tony want him more, but their ride was swiftly coming to an end. Peter pulled the car against the curb outside the corporate building, and a soft beep erupted from his phone, prompting him to conclude the ride. “Here we are, Mr. Stark.”

Tony didn’t move to leave the car, instead, in one quick motion, he pressed the conclude ride button on Peter’s phone. Then, he grabbed his own phone, opened the app, and lifted it towards Peter.

Peter’s eyes widened in confusion at the screen before him. It was the ‘Rate Your Driver’ section that allowed for comments and tipping. “Mr. Stark, what-?”

“How much do I have to tip you to stay here until I get back?”

“Um, what? Mr. Stark, I- that’s- I can’t stay here. I have to work for the rest of the afternoon.” Peter was clearly taken aback by the generous offer, his modesty keeping him from jumping at it.

Tony sighed, leaning forward and adjusting his suit jacket. “How much would you usually make? I’ll double it if you stay here.”

Peter’s expression was a blend of nerves, hesitance, and a little enticement, but still, he resisted. “Mr. Stark, I appreciate it, but-”

“Name your price, Peter.”

“My _price_?” Peter’s voice cracked.

“Yes, the price of your time.” Tony wouldn’t say he was getting tired of Peter’s resistance. It was quite the opposite actually. He liked the challenge. Not many people gave pushback. If he wanted someone, dangling money in front of them usually did the trick, so the defiance was refreshing. “Tell me and I’ll pay it.”

Peter shifted uneasily, dragging his open palms against his jeans as if to wick away the sweat caused by the suggestive atmosphere radiating off of Tony Stark. “I don’t have one.”

“Everyone has a price, kid.” Tony tapped his fingers rhythmically against the edge of the cupholder. “What’s yours?”

“I don’t know, Mr. Stark.” Peter glanced nervously at Tony’s fingers. “No one’s ever asked me that. I mean, I probably make like a hundred dollars a day doing this. It’s not much-”

“Good boy,” Tony smiled, filling out the form. “There.”

Peter’s phone buzzed again, this time flashing his recent tip on the screen. It was for three hundred dollars. “Mr. Stark!” He exclaimed, unable to process the man’s generosity. “That’s way more than double. You have to take it back. I can’t-”

“Two hundred for your waiting fee, and one hundred for the tip,” Tony said pointedly. “Seems to me that everything is accounted for. Now, stay here until I get back.”

~

“Wait, Tony-freaking-Stark was in your car!?” MJ screamed so loud through the video chat that Peter had to turn to volume down. In the three hours he’s waited, the day had dimmed into an orange sky evening and there was still no sign of Mr. Stark. So, naturally, he called his friend for crisis support.

“Yeah,” Peter anxiously breathed out. “And MJ, he was so flirty! I almost couldn’t believe it. I thought someone was pranking me when I got the ride request.”

MJ smirked, zeroing in on the crux of the situation with ease, “He was _flirting_, you say?”

“Oh my gosh, MJ!” Peter blushed, remembering each and every suggestive word Tony spoke to him. “And that’s not even the craziest part. He gave me a three hundred dollar tip.”

“Damn, that’s some major sugar daddy vibes right there,” MJ nodded with a devious glint in her eye. “You should totally bang him.”

“MJ!” Peter nearly dropped his phone at his friend’s words. “I can’t just bang Tony Stark. He’s Tony Stark! Iron Man, MJ. Iron. Man.”

“But, I mean, if he paid you three hundred to sit in your car and do nothing, imagine what he’ll dole out if you’re fucking him. Just saying. You should put some of those talents to use.” MJ had a point, and Peter knew she had a point, but fuck – was he really going to seduce Tony Stark for money? No way.

“That’s not me, MJ. Like, okay, he’s hot and rich, but even if he was just hot, I’d want to fuck him. The rich part doesn’t matter.” Peter explained.

“Then just fuck him.” MJ shrugged. “Or, at least, get his number.”

Peter dropped his head against the worn headrest, “How does one just fuck Tony Stark?”

“He must have been flirting for a reason.” MJ calmed Peter the best she could through the phone. “Just remember to be yourself. I’m sure he’ll make a move if you’re open to it, and once he does, bring slutty Peter out and just-” She paused, making a crude slapping sound with her hands. “Fuck his entire being into nonexistence, you know. Take what’s yours.”

“MJ!” Peter screamed in embarrassment. “Slutty Peter is _not_ a thing. I’ve said this before.”

MJ looked at Peter like he was spouting BS and nothing but BS, “I’m going to have to disagree with you there, Pete, especially because of that one frat party where you dragged those two guys-”

“We don’t talk about that!” Peter dropped his head into one of his hands. “It was my first college party. I was tipsy and they were nice, okay?”

“Yeah, they sounded real nice through that door too,” MJ joked.

“I didn’t even fuck those guys, MJ, I told you and Ned this!”

“Could’ve fooled me,” MJ snickered.

“MJ!” Peter blushed, recalling his first wild night as a college freshman but pushing the thought away before he died of embarrassment. “You really think Mr. Stark would even want to fuck me?”

“Absolutely. No questions asked.” She nodded. “The real question is: do you want to fuck him? Like really, not as a joke.”

“I mean, yeah. He’s hot as hell. Plus, he’s Tony Stark, so yeah, I want to fuck him.” Peter sighed and glanced at the building’s door again. Still no sign of him.

“Then do it, and if you happen to become Tony Stark’s arm candy, remember me when you’re famous.” MJ joked, riling Peter up again.

“MJ!”

“Oh shit, I got to go, dude. Professor just walked in, class is starting, bye!” With that, MJ was gone, leaving Peter to sit and wait for Mr. Stark in silence. But, not too long after the call ended, the doors of the building opened, pulling Peter’s attention. It was Mr. Stark, walking out the building like he owned it – and honestly, he probably did. Though that’s not what stuck with Peter. What stuck with him was the little smirk that danced on Mr. Stark’s face at the sight of Peter sitting right where he was told to stay. It was smug and knowing and dominant. All perfect descriptors for the man approaching the car.

Peter jumped from the front seat, rushing around his tiny vehicle to beat Mr. Stark to the passenger door. “Welcome back, Mr. Stark.” He beamed, trying to channel the combined energies of every chauffeur he’s ever seen on TV as he opened the door to usher in the older man. And being the self-doubting college freshman that he was, he was unsure about his performance. That is until Mr. Stark brought his fingers up to outline the underside of Peter’s jaw.

“Thanks, kid,” Mr. Stark ended his gesture of appreciation by lightly brushing his fingertip against Peter’s bottom lip and then he entered the opened door.

Peter rounded the car again. His face still warm from the lingering sensation of Mr. Stark’s caress, and his gait an awkward mess of self-consciousness, especially under the tension of Mr. Stark’s carnal gaze. “Where would you like to go next, Mr. Stark?”

“Not using the app this time, kid?”

“No way!” Peter was adamant. “You already paid me too much. I’m not charging you through the app again.” He unlocked his phone, opened the GPS, and extended it to the older man. “Here. Just, um, put the address in. We can go wherever you want.”

The smirk that found its way to Mr. Stark’s lips was full of intrigue. “Okay, I have just the place.” He spoke but didn’t take the phone, instead, he tapped the side of his sunglasses, bringing his artificial intelligence to life. “FRI, connect to Peter’s GPS, would you? And how about that shop on 5th, you know, the one from last time.”

FRIDAY commandeered Peter’s phone, automatically placing words in the destination form. “That’s so cool, Mr. Stark.” Peter leaned in to get a closer look at the interface that appeared on the surface of the sunglasses. “Can you do that with any device? Does it access my phone through a Bluetooth vulnerability? Or is it because I unlocked my phone first? Is this tech used in the Iron Man suits too? And what about-?”

Mr. Stark squinted in honest surprise, cutting Peter’s slew of questions short with one of his own, “What do you study, kid?”

“Oh!” Peter exclaimed, unaware of his rambling and overexcited by his academic passions. “I’m actually going for a triple major in software engineering, artificial intelligence, and robotics. Also, a minor in classical literature but that’s just a hobby. It’ll probably take like five years to complete, and I know what you’re going to say. Something like ‘_that’s too much for __one student__, Peter’ _ or ‘_that’s too over__-__ambitious for a freshman_’. Everyone says that kind of stuff, but I know I can handle-”

“That’s amazing, Pete.” Mr. Stark’s hand was suddenly in Peter’s hair, gently threading through the strands in praise and silencing the young man’s chatter. “I have a good feeling that if anyone could do it, it would be you.”

Peter blushed. Not at the delicate strokes of the older man’s hand, but rather, his words that expressed a blind confidence in Peter that no other person seemed to give. “Thanks, Mr. Stark.” He whispered as he subconsciously tilted his neck, leaning his head against the older man’s touch.

Mr. Stark cleared his throat with a soft cough and pulled his hand away. “What are you waiting for, kid?” He pointed to the GPS. “We have errands to run.”

“Oh, yeah,” Peter breathed out, embarrassment creeping up his spine from displaying such pliant behavior to a simple gesture of praise. “Sorry, Mr. Stark.” He tightly gripped the wheel – almost too tightly, but his nerves wouldn’t have it any other way – and he began their twenty-minute drive.

“Did you pay for this car yourself?” Mr. Stark asked, restlessly tapping his fingers against the cup holder.

“No, my Aunt May helped me with the down payment.” Peter smiled at the fond memory of car hunting with his beloved aunt. “But I had a few part-time jobs for a while.”

“Really?” The older man continued his taps. “How many?”

“Um, three officially, but four if you count the tutoring I did back in high school.” Peter shuddered. His mind wandering to the fast-food job where he wasn’t sure if he was cooking the patties or himself over that sweltering grill. Or the construction job where he would direct angry New Yorkers into one lane, and be berated by everyone with their windows down – and _everyone_ had their windows down. Then there was the library gig where he learned to despise Dewey and his decimal system, and every person who ever put a book somewhere they didn’t find it.

“You must be a really diligent worker then.” More tapping. “I admire that.”

“Thanks, Mr. Stark.” Peter glanced down at the older man’s fingers. “Are you okay? You keep tapping your fingers.”

“Really?” Mr. Stark smiled, catching himself in the act, “I hadn’t noticed. Does it bother you?”

“No, not at all,” Peter shook his head. “It just makes me think that you’re not comfortable or something.”

“You want me to be honest?” Mr. Stark laughed, leaning against the center console.

“Yeah”

“I just want to touch you more.”

The car jerked. Peter coming to an abrupt stop at a stoplight, “Oh- um, sorry! I, uh, I didn’t mean to, um-” His panicked expression contrasted by Mr. Stark’s cool one despite the sudden stop.

“Can I, Pete?”

“Mr. Stark, I-” Peter whispered, feeling a familiar heat building in his cheeks and a knee-jerk rejection sitting behind his lips. But then he remembered what MJ said about being open to moves. “Yeah, okay, you can.” He was unsure about the type of touch Mr. Stark wanted but he agreed. His curiosity for the man outweighing his uncertainty. And with a small grin, the older man slid his hand against Peter’s thigh, letting his fingers dip into the frayed slits of the kid’s jeans to massage the smooth skin beneath.

There was no doubt in Peter’s mind that this was strange. He hasn’t had any genius, billionaire, playboy, philanthropists feel him up in his car. Yet, here he was. The touch wasn’t invasive or overtly sexual, but it did demand Peter’s attention. The world blurred, and under the pause of the stoplight, he found himself staring at Mr. Stark’s fingers almost obsessively.

“Peter?”

“Yes, Mr. Stark?”

“The light’s green.”

“Oh! Right!” Peter drove, trying to zone out the contact, but it was there. Just fucking there. There, and tickling his arousal, and how _dare_ his mind turn this innocent thigh touch into boner popping material? He practically squirmed at the feeling, fighting the pleasureful thoughts that bubbled at the back of his mind. Though, luckily enough, the ride was coming to an end. His phone displaying a one minute arrival time that quickly flashed to a ‘You Have Arrived’ screen. Effectively saving him from public boner embarrassment.

“We’re here,” Peter mumbled as he peaked out the window. “A suit shop? Are you getting a new suit, Mr. Stark?”

“No,” Mr. Stark pushed the door open. “You are.” And before Peter could protest, the older man exited the car, striding towards the boutique and pausing by the entrance.

“Why is he doing this?” Peter mumbled begrudgingly under his breath as he parked his car and shuffled into the boutique behind Mr. Stark. “I don’t need a suit, Mr. Stark. I don’t-”

“You,” Mr. Stark pointed to an employee behind the front counter, completely ignoring Peter’s resistance. “This is Peter. Fit him in a suit. Something that will complement his features.”

“Yes, sir,” The boutique employee sprung to life, giving a nod to Mr. Stark before gesturing towards the fitting area. “Peter, please follow me.”

~

“Mr. Stark, how do I look?” Peter stepped out of the fitting room wearing slim burgundy pants, a simple white collarless button-up, and a black blazer with a matching burgundy pocket square. And Tony couldn’t help but smile. The kid looked polished, refined, and probably more, but Tony’s mind settled firmly on handsome, sexy, and adorable.

“Very handsome,” Tony placed a hand against the younger man’s shoulder. “Absolutely stunning.” Then, without considering the disapproval of the kid, he turned to the employee and said, “I’ll take it.”

Peter continued his protests, “Mr. Stark! You can’t- I can’t-!”

“Here,” Tony pulled a black card from his wallet and extended it to the employee, “Charge it on this, and pack the kid’s clothes in one of your store bags.”

“Yes, sir.” The employee nodded, ringing up the charge, revealing on the register’s display a price of $3000.

“Mr. Stark! Please don’t. That’s a lot of money. I can’t pay you back.” Peter was disgruntled, clearly uncomfortable by the suit, but really, Tony didn’t care. This wasn’t new to him. He’s spent money on people before and, sometimes, they act like Peter. But eventually, after enough gifts, they start begging him for more just like everyone else. He wanted to get to that point with the kid. A point where he could get what he wanted in return for gifts or money or whatever the kid asked for.

“It’s a gift, Peter.”

“But why? I didn’t do anything to deserve something this nice.”

“What do you mean? You gave me a ride.”

“But that’s- It was a short ride, Mr. Stark!” Peter threw his arm up in anger. “I can’t!”

“We’ve completed the transaction, sir.” The employee returned with a boutique bag packed with Peter’s prior clothes.

“They’ve completed the transaction, kid.” Tony shrugged with a smug grin. “Too late to complain. Now, come on. We have more to do.” With that, he exited the suit shop, knowing the kid was trailing behind him and probably pouting about it too. And Tony was loving every minute of it.

“Where are we going now?” Peter’s tone had shifted. “No more expensive purchases. I’m serious.”

“But I was thinking a Michelin star restaurant for dinner, and a-”

“No!” Peter put his foot down, literally stomped his right foot against the pavement. “Not a chance! No more spending, Mr. Stark. I’ve had it!”

The kid was still objecting, and while Tony’s experiences as billionaire playboy screamed at him to wave more money, his few experiences with the kid screamed louder. “Alright, fine,” Tony threw his hands up in defeat. “But I’m still hungry. You know a place better than a Michelin star restaurant?”

Peter beamed, “Yes, let’s go!” After ushering Tony back into his car, Peter took off, navigating away from the upscale businesses and entering the part of New York he grew up in. The kind of area that probably needed a friendly neighborhood superhero – but that was just Tony’s opinion. They approached a tiny corner store that bled fluorescent lighting, bright yellow paint, and local events posters. As Peter parked the car against the curb, he smiled, “Welcome to the best bodega this side of New York. The food here is amazing. You can get whatever you want. It’s my treat.”

Tony smirked, finding humor in the irony of Peter treating him with the tip money, but choosing to keep silent. “I’ll just have what you’re having.”

“Excellent choice.” Peter smirked, “I’ll be right back.”

The way the kid excitedly dashed from the car to get food from a cheap bodega made a wave of guilt run over Tony. Maybe he was a bit pushy with the money. Peter seemed happiest whenever he talked about college or his Aunt May helping pay for his bucket car. It was never when Tony flaunted money.

After ten minutes, Peter returned, carrying a plastic bag filled with food and nestling two large cans of sweet tea under his arm. “Okay,” Peter began as he entered the car again. “I got us some chopped cheeses, fries to share, and some teas.”

“A chopped cheese?”

“Yes, Mr. Stark, a chopped cheese.” Peter gave Tony an incredulous look. “Have you never had a chopped cheese before?!”

“Can’t say I have, kid.” Tony took the sandwich from the bag, unwrapping it to reveal the coveted New York cuisine.

“I can’t believe this. Am I giving Tony Stark his first chopped cheese right now?”

“I guess so.”

“Well, take a bite!” Peter gestured for the older man to eat. “I want your reaction.”

Tony took a big bite of the cheesy sandwich, immediately noting the differences between it and his typical meals, but finding himself not caring. The sandwich – the chopped cheese – was fucking delicious. “It’s surprisingly edible.”

“What?!” Peter mumbled through his own bite. “_It’s surprisingly edible._” The kid repeated jokingly with a big smile plastered to his face. “That’s all you can say?”

Tony laughed, “It’s actually very good. Thanks for treating me, Pete.”

“You’re welcome.” Peter took a swig of tea. “You got me a three thousand dollar suit. I can at least get you a good sandwich.”

Tony cringed, thoughts of his final gift for Peter rushing to the front of his mind, “About that-”

“Oh no,” Peter mumbled. “It’s more spending, isn’t it, Mr. Stark?”

“Just one more thing.” Tony laughed at himself. How could he ever think that this kid, who sticks his fries into his sandwich before biting it, would ever eat at a Michelin star restaurant? What made him think that this kid, who doesn’t pay attention to the condensation dripping off his can and onto his new pants, would ever want a designer suit? Why did he think he needed to flash his money to earn the kid’s attention? “Honestly, kid, I’ll probably return it now, but you should at least come to look at it.”

“What is it?” Peter raised his brow.

Tony grinned, “A surprise.”

“Now I’m really afraid.”

“Don’t be.” Tony lifted a fry to his mouth. “It’s really not that grand of a gesture.”

Peter scoffed, “Is it more than three thousand dollars?”

Tony gave a sharp inhale, “Well if you look at it from an abstract point of view, it’s a priceless gift from one of your very appreciative passengers.”

“It’s over three thousand dollars.”

~

Dinner with Mr. Stark was surreal. Peter couldn’t stop thinking about it. Sitting in the cozy glow of the bodega’s lights, talking robotics, and sharing his favorite food with Tony Stark of all people. The older man seemed different now. He wasn’t focused on the money anymore. Instead, he did things like give Peter studying tips, ask about Peter’s friends, and feed Peter the occasional fry like goofy couples did in romantic movies. And Peter didn’t want to sound too dramatic or jump to any conclusions, but it was the best dinner date he’s ever been on ever! And he found himself never wanting the night to end.

Currently, they were driving back to Stark Tower to see the final gift in person. The older man’s hand sat comfortably atop Peter’s thigh. Almost like it belonged there. Peter still _felt_ it too, but not as much as before. He acclimated to the tiny touches; the head pats, the gentle fingertips on his neck, the firm squeeze of his knee. He was acutely aware of them but he drove and spoke without issue.

“You really won’t tell me what it is, Mr. Stark?”

Mr. Stark smiled, giving Peter’s thigh a gentle pinch. “No, we’re almost there. I know I’m returning it, but I’m not ruining the surprise.”

“Fine,” Peter pouted as he rounded the final corner before Stark Tower.

“Don’t go to the front. Enter the alley here and turn into the car elevator.” The older man directed Peter into a side entrance that required a fingerprint scan, voice recognition, and a passcode.

“A car elevator?” Peter’s interest was piqued.

“How else would I keep my children safe up the penthouse with me?” Mr. Stark joked, but then he gushed about his collection of sports cars that Rhodey called a fleet and Pepper called a waste of money. It was a moment that revealed his passions, and Peter was hanging onto every word.

Peter pulled his car into the elevator, and as it ascended the tower, he looked to the older man with a smirk, “Is this one of those situations where you, the billionaire playboy, takes me up to his penthouse and says _surprise! I was the gift all along_?” He giggled at himself but was also very aware of how much he would love that situation to be this situation.

“Sadly, no. There is an actual gift up there.” Mr. Stark smiled, “But if that’s what you want, I’m sure something can be arranged.”

The man’s words made Peter’s face feel hot for what felt like the millionth time today. “You’re such a flirt, Mr. Stark.” And judging by the way he slid his hand further up Peter’s thigh, Peter could tell Mr. Stark was confidently owning the flirt title.

“Park there,” The older man directed as the elevator opened, revealing a garage filled with an assortment of flashy vehicles, all vibrantly colored, sleek, and eye-catching. “Come on, kid, your gift is right over here.” Mr. Stark stepped out Peter’s car and strolled to end of the row of vehicles.

“Where?” Peter rushed to catch up with him. They stopped in front of a silver convertible with black detailing and a matte red leather interior. “In the car?”

Mr. Stark just laughed, “No, Pete – wow, this is so bad, I’m sorry – the car _is_ the gift.”

“Wait,” Peter’s brain blanked, a total no one’s home moment. The car was his – well, not _his_ his. He knew it was going to be returned but fuck it, he was still going to dream. Mr. Stark got him a car, and not just any car, but a low to the ground beauty with rims so chrome and shiny, Peter was convinced they’d reflect the entire world. And the colors! The car had such a tantalizing custom touch that it made Peter’s body twitch beneath the sheer anticipation of sitting in it. He looked up at the gift giver himself, “You got me a car, Mr. Stark?!”

The older man gave a light scoff, “Yes, but I’m returning it so technically, no.” He stepped to open the driver’s side door for Peter, “Here, come sit in it.”

As much as Peter wanted to protest – scared that if he sat in it, he wouldn’t want to get out – he still readily entered the car. And holy fuck, did it feel good. The leather seats, the contours of the steering wheel, the undeniably attractive new car smell.

Mr. Stark closed him in and leaned against the edge of the door, putting him at eye level with the younger man, “Do you like it, kid?”

Peter sighed, relinquishing the dream and releasing his hold on the steering wheel, “It’s a nice car, like a really fucking nice car, Mr. Stark, but-”

“I know. Too expensive, right?” Mr. Stark grinned, placing a gentle hand atop Peter’s head. “I understand now, kid. That’s why I’m sending it back.”

Peter was relieved. “Thank you for understanding.”

“No, thank _you_ for putting up with me all day. I have been kind of overbearing, right?”

“Maybe a little,” Peter giggled, leaning into Mr. Stark’s touch like it was second nature. “But I would put up with you any day, Mr. Stark.”

“You can’t talk like that, kid.” Mr. Stark slid his hand down to cup Peter’s cheek, brushing his fingers against the side of his neck. “You don’t know what you’re doing when you say those things.”

Peter smiled and moved his lips so close to the older man’s that he could taste his breath. “Calling me kid doesn’t make me one, you know.” He placed his hands on either side of Mr. Stark’s surprised face. “I know _exactly_ what I’m doing.”

~

Tony was dumbfounded. He didn’t expect the kid to jump him like that. He didn’t expect his lips to be hijacked so fervidly, his hair pulled for control, his mouth vigorously invaded by a youthful tongue. He didn’t expect it but he didn’t fight it either. No, instead, Tony melted in it. Letting the kid do as he pleased and reaping the arousing benefits. Despite his modesty towards gifts, the kid was surprisingly greedy. The way he dragged Tony’s bottom lip between his teeth was one thing, but the piercing eye contact he gave whilst doing so was another. He looked at Tony with insatiable lust, and the older man could do nothing but grow harder and hope Peter wanted more.

Only after exploring every inch of the older man’s mouth, Peter finally pulled away, “I’m hard, Mr. Stark.” He whispered with a naughty grin and flushed face that sent a waterfall of heat into Tony’s pants. “Can we go to your bedroom, please?”

Tony couldn’t remember the last time he was so absolutely floored by someone. The kid was fucking mesmerizing staring up at him like that with those moistly parted lips and those big brown eyes. Peter _wanted _him, and who the hell was Tony to deny him? “Follow me.”

Peter smiled, exiting the car and firmly attaching himself to the older man’s arm. “Lead the way.”

As Tony guided the kid towards the penthouse elevator, he felt a strange excitement in his stomach. This wasn’t the first time he’s brought some young thing home with him, but there was something so achingly different about Peter. Beyond his captivating body, this kid was still interesting. Sure, he was purposefully pressing his bulge against Tony’s hand and drawing fiery patterns against Tony’s back with his fingertips, but even if he wasn’t doing those things, Tony would still want him around.

The moment the elevator revealed the penthouse, Peter fell back into the moment; his supple lips crashing against Tony’s and his arms locking around the back of the older man’s neck. But this time, Tony took the reigns. In one motion, he lifted the younger man off the floor, gripping the underside of his thighs for support.

“Mr. Stark!” Peter exclaimed, surprised by the sudden show of strength and reactively wrapping his legs around Tony’s body.

“I believe you asked for a bedroom, not a hallway,” Tony smirked and carried Peter down the hall towards his room. “I want to take you on my bed.”

“I want that too,” Peter whispered against Tony’s neck before kissing it. Though kissing would extremely underplay what he really did. He licked a line from the side of Tony’s neck to his earlobe, stopping to take it in his mouth and suck.

The feeling wrenched a strained groan from Tony, who was so agonizingly aware of Peter that he nearly kicked his bedroom door in. He could feel the kid’s growing hardness pressed against his waist. His breaths that ended in low moans with each step towards the king-sized bed. His soft lips undoubtedly sucking dark marks on the space beneath Tony’s ear.

If Tony was with anyone else, he would have thrown them against the sheets, yanked their pants off, and got right to it, but he couldn’t do that with the kid. He wanted to take his time with this one. So he lowered Peter to the edge of the bed, peppering kisses against his face, and slowly pulled the black blazer from his body.

Peter caught on quick too, looking up at Tony with a provoking stare as he popped open each button on his shirt with an intentional air of tease. On the last button, he dropped his shoulders, removing the shirt and revealing his boyish physique to the older man. “You too, Mr. Stark.” He whispered as he leaned back against the pillowy duvet, unfastening his belt and unzipping his pants, further exposing his hardness.

Tony grinned at the sight and discarded his own jacket while tugging at the knot of his tie. “You’re way too tempting, kid. Who taught you to act this way, hm?” As he spoke, he removed his shirt and brought his knee up against the bed’s edge. “How many lucky men have tasted you?” Tony was whispering now as he gripped the underside of Peter’s legs and positioned himself between them.

Peter blushed, but his confidence remained, “Take a guess, Mr. Stark.”

Tony gripped at the waistline of Peter’s pants, tugging them away and revealing the pale, delicious thighs he’d already become so familiar with. “A guess?” He breathed a short laugh. “Less than five.”

The kid giggled as he scooted his boxers passed his hips, letting the older man tug those off as well. “Too afraid to choose a more discrete number, Mr. Stark?” Peter teased, running his fingers against his now bare body, just begging to be touched.

Tony never saw himself getting off on a math quip but the way his dick twitched proved otherwise. “I don’t know, kid. You’re so sure of yourself,” Tony began trailing his fingers from Peter’s knee and across his thigh. “I would have to make some more observations first.” He smirked at the way his touch made the kid’s eyes flash back and forth between his traveling fingers and his gaze. “You know, follow the process, do some tests, find the proper boundaries,” His voice trailed off as his hand reached Peter’s length, drawing a sharp breath from the kid.

“Mr. Stark,” Peter whined at the contact, his hips jutting upward.

“Worked up over just this?” It was Tony’s turn to tease. He palmed at the kid’s dick, eliciting sounds so euphoric, he wondered if what he was doing was even okay. Sure, Peter was eighteen, but the breathy moans that spilled from his mouth were so ruthlessly wanton that simply hearing them should be illegal. “I’m dropping my guess to less than four.”

Peter’s hips jerked again. This time was needier than the first. “Mr. Stark, I-”

“Yes, Pete?” Tony continued, with his right hand stroking firmly from base to tip and his left rolling the kid’s nipple. “What is it?”

Peter’s legs tensed. “That feels too good,” He choked the words out, almost like he was holding back.

And he was. Tony knew from the moisture beading at the head of the kid’s length that he was close to his edge and fighting it. “Don’t tell me you’re going to cum now? I’ve barely touched you.” The older man didn’t want to torment the kid, but watching his body react so earnestly to a few touches was fucking enticing. “After all that talk about how you know exactly what you’re doing. My guess is down to three now.”

Peter’s whole face was flushed, “No, I- _fuck!_ Mr. Stark, I’m not-” The kid was losing it, and Tony knew he should have dialed it back, but he didn’t. He wanted to see Peter cum so badly. He stroked faster, rubbing his finger against the wetness at the head and watching intensely as the kid’s back arched.

“Mr. Stark, stop, I’m gonna-!” And then he came. It was a leg trembling, cock pulsating, cum splattering, screaming and drooling kind of orgasm that was much better than anything Tony could have imagined.

“Holy shit, kid, you-” Tony couldn’t finish his sentence before Peter starting pushing himself away. The kid’s face fell and seeing it drop made Tony’s chest fill with anxiety. “Pete, what’s wrong?”

“Bathroom,” It was the only word the kid said as he shuffled off the bed and disappeared into the en-suite.

“Fuck,” Tony cursed at himself, staring at the bathroom door and feeling an unfamiliar wave of nerves. The kid just ran away from him. What had he done? Did he push too hard? Should he have slowed down? He needed to know but he was also scared to knock. So he waited, sitting on the edge of the bed, facing the door, and anxiously tapping his fingers against his knee.

~

Peter screamed internally. His heart had a thorough shot of adrenaline, and it was purely because of embarrassment. Not only did he cum prematurely, but he fucking ran away when it happened like a child. _Ugh!_ He was mortified. Tony Stark was sitting out there, waiting for him, but all he could do was panic and run his fingers frustratingly through his hair.

In his silent panic, he caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror. His hair was wild, his lips were a tender pink, and cum still painted his stomach, so he scrambled to wipe it away with a tissue. The sight also made him wonder what in the fuck was he doing? He was standing in a billionaire playboy’s bathroom on the first day they met and he was _naked!_ Earlier he talked with MJ about fucking Tony Stark – and he really, really entertained the idea – but was he really going to fuck a guy he met today?

A sense of insecurity washed over Peter and it made him want to hide in the bathroom forever, but he knew he couldn’t. So, with a couple of deep breaths, he calmed himself, straightened out his hair, and exited the bathroom.

Mr. Stark was sitting on the edge of the bed, elbows on his knees, eyes trained on Peter. “You okay, kid?”

“Um, yes, I’m- I was just-” Peter was stumbling over his words again, just like before. “Mr. Stark, am I- is this okay?”

The older man was confused, and from Peter’s perspective, kind of frustrated, “Is what okay, Peter?”

“This!” Peter gestured back and forth between Mr. Stark and himself. “Mr. Stark, I’m sorry, but I don’t... I don’t want to be your fling.”

“Pete,” Mr. Stark stood from the bed, approaching the younger man almost warily and cupping his face. “You’re not a fling.”

“Then what am I? You’ve been flirty, and generous, and touchy all day. What else could I be but a fling?” Peter stared up, frantically searching for sincerity in a man who’s known for showing everything but.

“Geez, kid, you’re really asking for it, huh?” Mr. Stark sighed and pressed a gentle kiss against the younger man’s head, “You’re someone who I want. Now, and tomorrow, and the days after that too. If you’ll let me.”

“But why do you want me, Mr. Stark?” Peter was warming up again, feeling both eased and aroused by the older man’s answer.

“I don’t know, kid,” Mr. Stark smiled. “You just make me feel different. I haven’t felt like this in a long time.”

Peter giggled. “So you promise not to kick me to the curb if we fuck?”

“Is that what you think of me?” The older man licked his bottom lip and slid his arms around Peter’s waist, resting his hand just above his exposed bottom.

“No, but it’s what other people think of you.”

“Well, those people don’t know how excited I am to have you here with me.”

“Mr. Stark, you can’t talk like that.” He smirked, heat flushing his face, “You don’t know what you’re doing.”

“Kid, I know _exactly_ what I’m doing.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Leave a comment, let me know how I did, and check out my Tumblr because why not.  
obilgatorynasty.tumblr.com ^_^
> 
> Update! For everyone who has asked: Yes, there will be one more chapter of this so don't worry, more delicious starker smut is on the way soon! >:D


	2. Exactly Like That.

Mr. Stark was more considerate than Peter thought he would be. When Peter said he needed a moment before continuing, the older man gave him an over-sized t-shirt to wear in the meantime. When Peter said he was thirsty, Mr. Stark went to the kitchen to pour him a glass of water. When Peter said he needed to clean himself first, the older man prepared the necessities and gave him his space. The care was surprisingly sweet and it caused Peter’s heart to race. So, after the water glass was emptied and Peter felt comfortable enough and clean enough to start again, when they finally got back on the bed together, Peter’s heart felt like it would explode from his chest.

Under the soft moonlight pouring between the curtains, Peter’s hands moved idly across the sturdy chest of the older man, tracing invisible lines in all his contours. Peter was straddling him, enjoying the way Mr. Stark’s fingers brushed against his thighs, underneath the shirt’s hem, and around to his ass. To their side was a pile of things Mr. Stark pulled from his bedside table; a bottle of lube, two condoms, and a small butt plug that made Peter’s mind rush.

They were calmer now, but Peter could feel Mr. Stark’s hardness pressing against him and the feeling alone made the younger man’s dick twitch alive. Then, without warning, their lips were together and back in a familiar territory that Peter could monopolize. His hands naturally threading through the older man’s hair and his tongue dipping passed the threshold of the man’s lips. His body leaning into the older man’s embrace, forcing his back into the headboard. It was sensual and passionate and pulled a groan from Mr. Stark that made Peter whine.

Peter broke the kiss first, pressing his forehead gently against Mr. Stark’s and gazing into his eyes with greed. “Mr. Stark,” His voice was needy. “Will you touch me more please?”

The older man’s eyes were clouded with arousal and his lips parted to speak, but instead, he pushed Peter against the covers. Then he grabbed Peter’s thighs and pulled, putting Peter at an angle where his ass was level with the older man’s mouth and his legs were spread and bent at the knee.

“Mr. Stark!” Peter gasped at the sudden change, his face surely red from the mouth-watering allure of his new vantage point.

“Can I put my mouth here, Pete?”

Peter’s breath caught in his throat, unable to fully process the eroticism of Tony Stark asking for consent to eat him out. So he just nodded and clutched the older man’s thighs. What followed sent a wave of blissful sensations through Peter’s body. At first, the older man was gentle, pressing closed-mouth kisses against Peter’s entrance and gliding a hand down underneath the fabric of the t-shirt to play with the younger man’s nipple. The feel of it brought breathy whines to Peter’s lips, but the sight of it turned them into fully-fledged moans that Peter tried his best to hold back.

And Mr. Stark must have noticed Peter’s struggle because his tongue went flat, lapping at the younger man’s entrance with a greater pressure that made those moans break free. “_Mr. Stark_, I like that! _I like that.__ I-!_” Peter spoke through his moans, his breath hitching when the older man’s tongue began swirling carefully around his entrance. For a few good minutes, that’s where he stayed – outside, but never in – it made Peter whimper, secretly wanting more than what was being so generously given.

Mr. Stark peeked up at the sound, replacing his circular licking with the pad of his forefinger, “What’s wrong, baby?” His voice was like a drug to Peter, especially when _that_ word was uttered so fervidly and deep like a shock to Peter’s system.

Peter squirmed, gripping tighter at the older man’s thighs. “_More._” It was all the younger man could manage, but it was all that was needed.

Mr. Stark’s mouth was back against Peter’s entrance, but this time, he dipped his tongue in and brought a hand to Peter’s stiffened length, stroking steadily. The new combination of sensations made Peter’s toes curl. It made his fingernails dig into the skin he so desperately held onto. It made his eyes go wide, his body shudder, and a profane mantra spill from his lips. “Ah-! Mr. Stark, that’s- _fuck! _Don’t stop!”

And, for a while, the older man didn’t. He maintained his pace, letting Peter indulge in the feel of it all. Bringing noises out of the young man that were lewd and enticing and sometimes harsh and fiery but always thoroughly pleased. And Peter fucking _liked it_ – almost too much. This wasn’t something he’d done before, but now, he imagined himself wanting it every time. He liked the warm slippery feeling of being eased open by a tongue and the inherent naughtiness that came with it being Tony Stark’s tongue. For a moment, he wondered how many times the older man had done this. How many other people got to see what Peter was seeing? Who else was lucky enough to have Mr. Stark’s face buried against their ass as he palmed at their dick?

“M-Mr. Stark?” Peter spoke softly, his voice still mixed together with his moans.

The older man gave his gaze to Peter, again replacing his licking with a finger. “Yes, baby?”

Peter flinched but he didn’t know if it was because Mr. Stark’s finger dipped into him or because he called him _that_ again. “This- Do you do thi..._fuck-_” Peter’s voice trailed off as the older man squeezed lube at his entrance and pushed his finger in a bit deeper than before.

Mr. Stark smirked, clearly enjoying Peter’s wanton reactions, “Finish your sentence, Peter.”

“Do y-” Peter bit his lip and whined, throwing his previous question away and, instead, saying, “Don’t call me that.” And he was instantly embarrassed, irrationally scared that Mr. Stark would laugh at his request, but Peter liked the way_ that _word made him feel so he asked it anyway.

“Don’t call you Peter?” And, of course, it took Mr. Stark all of two seconds to understand. “_Baby._ You prefer baby, don’t you?” Peter couldn’t respond again. He brought his arms across his face, trying to hide in his self-inflicted shame and muffle the pleasured filled sounds that came from the combination of _that_ word and the ministrations of older man’s finger.

“You don’t have to hide, baby boy.” Mr. Stark shifted their positions again, carefully and without removing his finger. He laid Peter flat against the duvet with his legs spread. “You can ask me for anything you want.” The older man leaned down, peppering kisses against Peter’s arms, trying to coax them away. “Show me that pretty face, baby.”

Peter didn’t want to, because he was sure his face was flushed and his expression was perverted, but something about Mr. Stark telling him to do things made everything feel more intense. So he did. He moved his arms, opting to grip at the covers above his head.

“Good boy,” Mr. Stark praised and pushed his finger in deeper, rubbing against a spot so sensitive that Peter’s body jerked upward. “What else do you want, baby? Tell me.”

“_Mr. Stark_,” Peter mumbled the older man’s name, watching obsessively as that finger pressed rhythmically inside of him. “More. I want _more._”

“More what, baby?” Mr. Stark was teasing again, but Peter was too wrapped up in the ecstasy of hearing _that_ sweet fucking word to care.

“More fingers, please, _please_\- or no, your _cock_, Mr. Stark. I want that, _please_-”

Mr. Stark gave a sharp inhale, “You’re not ready for that yet, baby.” He spoke low as he squeezed more lube at Peter’s entrance. “But let’s start here.” He pushed another finger in, striking that bundle of nerves again and wrenching a strained groan from Peter.

“Yes, _fuck_\- yes, Mr. Stark!” Peter didn’t even know what he was saying yes to. He just felt like saying something. He wanted so badly to convey how good Mr. Stark was making him feel. If the avid moaning wasn’t enough, if the trembling wasn’t enough, if the erection wasn’t enough, then Peter would show it with his words. No matter how broken or how filled with stutters. He would moan for the older man, hoping it was enough to keep him from stopping. He didn’t want it to stop.

Mr. Stark smirked, bringing his free hand to the base of Peter’s length and giving a light squeeze. “You’re leaking again, baby.”

Peter’s back arched a little at the sudden contact. He could feel the pre-cum dripping from the head of his dick, but the usual craving he had to orgasm wasn’t completely there. Instead, he found himself wanting to wait. He didn’t want to cum yet. He wanted to continue feeling everything Mr. Stark was giving him, so he reached down to pull the older man’s hand away from his length. “_Not yet._ Not yet, please,” Peter whined.

At the sound of Peter’s pleading, Mr. Stark paused his fingers, leaving them inside but keeping them completely still. “Okay, baby boy,” He reached over to the edge of the bed and grabbed the butt plug from the pile. “Then how about this, hm? Do you want this?”

Peter took a deep breath, his eyes blown from the stagnation of pleasure and his body practically vibrating at the thought of what that toy would feel like, “Yeah. Yes, please.” The younger man didn’t know why he was punctuating all his sentences with please, but he could see how much Mr. Stark seemed to like it. So, again, he whined, “_Please._”

The older man smiled at Peter’s willingness as he worked his fingers slowly, focusing on stretching the boy beneath him. After another squeeze of lube, he slowly pulled his fingers out and brought the tip of the silicone toy to Peter’s entrance. The younger man’s heart was thrumming as it was pressed into him. Mr. Stark was moving gradually, letting Peter relax at each widened diameter. And, at the end, Peter groaned as a small stinging sensation briefly overtook his pleasure before the toy snapped into him like it belonged there.

Peter felt so strange with something like that inside him. It was another thing he has never experienced before but now imagined himself wanting it every time. The feeling also made him want to feel something he was used to, so he reached his arms up to the man at the source of his pleasure. “Mr. Stark, can you kiss me please?”

Every time Mr. Stark smiled, Peter’s stomach felt fluttery like butterflies swarming his insides, and when he leaned down for the kiss, Peter couldn’t help but smile too. Again, this was something the younger man had confidence in. The mingling of tongues, the gentle nibbles, the moans that disappeared in the other’s mouth. This was a place where Peter felt advanced, and the proof was the way Mr. Stark’s eyes looked at him after.

“Kid, you’re killing me,” Peter didn’t mind the slip, because it was said from a place of arousal and it was immediately corrected. “What else can that pretty mouth do, _hm_, baby boy?”

“It can be fucked, Mr. Stark,” Peter was talking without thinking, and he was sure it was the satisfied look in the older man’s eyes that motivated his mind to formulate such immoral sentences. “It can suck until told to stop. It can swallow everything it’s given. It can do anything you want it to, Mr. Stark.”

The older man tensed at Peter’s words but smirked, “I’ll take you up on that.”

They were shifting again. This time to the edge of the bed. Mr. Stark sat, cock out and legs parted, watching with eager eyes as Peter dropped to his knees in that space and slowly pulled the t-shirt off his body. And when the older man’s cock twitched at his striptease, Peter had to exercise so much restraint to not just take the whole thing at once. Yes, he wanted this cock down his throat, but he also wanted this to be a slow burn. He wanted to show Mr. Stark every single one of his talents.

~

When the kid dropped to his knees, Tony had to hold his breath to keep himself steady. Honestly, he found himself holding his breath plenty of times with the kid already. He didn’t know how utterly euphoric being with Peter would feel. And _fuck_, when he started dragging those peach soft lips up Tony’s thigh, the older man felt it everywhere. Peter’s teasing was a blessing and a curse. Tony knew that if Peter took him right away, he wouldn’t last more than a few seconds, but it also built a pillar of anticipation in Tony’s mind that caused his fingers to shake where they held on at the bed’s edge.

Maybe this is what the kid meant when he said he knew exactly what he was doing. Sure, when it came down to it, Tony could tell Peter wasn’t use to everything, but the things he did know, he fucking _knew_. The kid stared up at Tony as he nudged his lips against the pliable and delicate skin beneath the shaft. A rush shot up the older man’s spine when Peter took one into his mouth, the hot air from his nose tickling the underside of Tony’s length. And when he moved to the other and did that swirling motion with his tongue, Tony groaned.

“Do you like that, Mr. Stark?” Peter whispered, keeping his eyes fixed on Tony. “You like it when I suck on you here?”

Tony inhaled through his teeth, “Yes, baby.”

Peter hummed as he continued sucking at the soft skin. His fingernails skimming their way up Tony’s calves, around his knees, and across his thighs. His tongue twirling and his big brown eyes twinkling with that same greed from before. And as Tony’s breaths started to go heavy, Peter started upwards. Licking a long, titillating line from the base to the tip, and pulling another intoxicating groan from the older man.

Peter smiled at the sound and pressed a kiss to the head of Tony’s cock. “I like that I can make you make those sounds.” He whispered against the head before parting his lips and slowly dipping down, taking inch by inch Tony’s length.

Tony’s hands instinctively went to the boy’s hair, gripping tenderly and gently nudging himself deeper inside Peter’s pliant mouth. If Tony was honest, the kid had complete control over him in this moment. With the way he flicked his tongue, hollowed his cheeks, and moaned those sweet vibrations. Tony didn’t think he would last, especially when Peter pushed even further, taking him so deep that Tony could feel himself hit the back of the boy’s throat. The sensation was fiery and made the older man press his feet harder into the floor.

And just when Tony thought the feeling couldn’t get any better, Peter began bobbing his head with his watery eyes still fixated on Tony. This is when the kid showed his true talent. There were no gags, no unintentional breaks of breath, no coughing. Peter was practiced, and the thoughts of how he got so good rushed to whatever space Tony still had in his mind to think. Guilt bubbling inside him as he got off to a fantasy of Peter on his knees for other men and using them as nothing but training tools for this moment.

Those thoughts mixed with Peter’s ministrations and the sensation of Peter’s drool practically pooling around his cock made a familiar tension appear in Tony’s stomach. He was close – dangerously close. So, he took a deep breath and pulled Peter’s head away by his hair. And the older man didn’t mean to pull so harshly, but the lust pumping through his veins made him forget his own strength. Luckily for him, the kid didn’t seem mind. He really, really didn’t seem to mind.

Peter moaned at the pain, his eyes closed and his body shuddering at the feel of it. “_Fuck_, Mr. Stark.”

“Wow, baby,” Tony leaned forward, and pulled again, forcing Peter’s eyes open. “You like this?”

Peter’s face flushed, drool still lingering on his chin, hands reactively flinching to grab Tony’s wrists, and face wincing from the steady pain of his hair being pulled. “Yes,” He moaned.

“What a little slut,” Tony whispered it carefully, searching the kid’s eyes for any sign of distaste. He didn’t want to push too far, but he knew he would regret it if he didn’t push at all.

Peter squirmed, tears welling up at the corners of his eyes, “Yes, I- I’m a little slut.”

_Fuck._ Tony was definitely getting off on this – the kid’s embarrassment, his pain, his pleasure. “Whose little slut are you?”

The question had a simple answer. At least, that’s what Tony thought. He expected a wanton ‘Mr. Stark’ or a shy ‘Tony’ or maybe even a playful ‘Sir’, but those are not the answers that came out of the kid. What came out of Peter’s succulent lips could have made Tony cream himself if even a single touch remained on his erection.

“I’m your little slut, _Daddy_.”

And Peter, being the nervous kid Tony knew him to be, immediately showed signs of panic. His hooded eyes shooting open at the realization of what he accidentally said and his lips parting as if to take it back.

But Tony didn’t let him. “That’s right, baby. You’re Daddy’s pretty little slut.”

Peter’s panic evaporated at Tony’s words, his expression dropping back into that place of fervent pleasure. And Tony watched with bewildered eyes as Peter’s hands fell, succumbing to the pain and giving no resistance to the man’s hold. His eyes were teary and when one escaped his eye and rolled down his cheek, Tony flinched. The older man softened his grip on the kid’s hair, scared to wield that much power over the boy. “Peter.” Tony breathed, releasing the kid entirely.

“Yes?” Peter’s eyes were trained on Tony, but his focus was still lost somewhere in the euphoria.

“Is this okay?” Tony whispered, leaning forward, connecting his elbows with his knees.

Peter slowly pulled himself above the waterline of heat, becoming present for Tony’s concerns. “Is what okay, Mr. Stark?”

Tony smiled softly, gesturing back and forth between the kid and himself. “This.”

“Yeah, yes! I like this.” Peter went upright on his knees and pressed a kiss to Tony’s forehead. “I like you, Mr. Stark.”

Tony’s breath caught, “I like you too, Peter.” He paused, soaking in the moment before continuing, “So shouldn’t I be – I don’t know – taking you on a proper date first?” Tony felt guilty from doing all those dirty things to Peter; teasing and hurting him and calling him names. It was like he was taking advantage of the kid. It felt wrong.

Peter gave a warm smile, “You can take me on a date, Mr. Stark, but I also don’t want to stop here.” The kid laughed weakly and ran a hand through his hair, “Honestly, I don’t think I could survive if we stopped here.”

“Okay,” Tony nodded, scooping Peter’s face in his hands, “But if I do anything you don’t like, pinch me really hard and I’ll stop. I don’t want to hurt you – well, not more than you’d want me to – so, just remember that, okay?”

Peter bit his bottom lip, his face flushing at the older man’s gentle words. “Okay.”

“Okay?” Tony asked again for good measure.

“Okay, Mr. Stark!” Peter giggled, turning his face to press a small kiss into Tony’s hand.

Tony smiled at the small gesture of affection, “You’re so beautiful.”

“Thank you,” The kid hummed as he dipped back underneath that waterline of heat. “Thank you, Daddy,” Peter spoke with a demure energy, his nerves more present than his arousal. The word still seemed to make him self-conscious, and Tony knew it was his job to ease those insecurities.

“Come here, baby,” Tony grabbed Peter’s hand, guided him to his feet, and pulled him close, embracing his slender waist. He peppered kisses against the younger man’s navel, careful to pause and leave marks where he deemed fit. He moved even lower, then, gingerly taking Peter’s length into his mouth, and finding himself pleased at the way the kid’s hips jolted at the sensation.

Tony didn’t think he was as good as Peter at this. In fact, he couldn’t remember the last time he put this much effort into a partner. So he was glad that Peter seemed to enjoy it so much; his moans coming back full force, his hands trembling where they gripped at the older man’s shoulders, his legs tensing. It made Tony’s unpolished skills feel like more than they were.

“Wait! _Ah!_ _I’ll cum, I’ll cum_ if you do that. I’ll-” Peter pushed at Tony’s shoulders, making the older man pull away, just in time to see Peter’s agonizing whine as he teetered on his edge but didn’t quite fall.

“You’re such a good boy, aren’t you, baby?” Tony whispered, dragging his palms up the back of Peter’s thighs and across his ass, stopping to lightly press at the butt plug still buried inside.

“_Yes_,” Peter moaned out.

Tony clicked his tongue and gave a long rough press, “Yes, what?”

“Yes, Daddy!” Peter cried out at the sudden pressure.

“That’s better.” Tony hummed. “Now, let’s see if you’re nice and stretched for me.” He grabbed the toy, causing the kid to brace himself as he pulled. And Peter’s entrance just gave, letting the silicone slide smoothly free. “Perfect,” The older man smirked, placing the toy on the bedside table before pulling Peter onto the bed with him. He guided the kid down against the pillows and spread his legs at the knees.

Peter was silent now. His big brown eyes hypnotized by each move Tony made in putting on the condom, adding more lube, and positioning himself at Peter’s pliant entrance. “You ready, baby?”

Peter nodded, reaching out to hold hands with Tony. “Yes, Daddy.”

Tony interlocked his fingers with one of the younger man’s hands and began pushing himself inside. He was careful and slow and watched Peter’s face with a sharp focus, looking for any sign of pain, but the kid didn’t seem to have any. Instead, the younger man released a slew of needy moans, and gasps that made him sound desperate for air, and the cutest strings of ‘_yes, yes, yes._’ So Tony pushed until he was completely buried inside Peter’s deepest parts, and then pushed some more just to see Peter’s face twist in that immeasurable pleasure.

“How’s that, baby?”

~

Peter didn’t know how he was going to last. From the moment he felt Mr. Stark inside him, his body was buzzing, threatening to fall off the edge into orgasm. His dick was oozing pre-cum and his throat felt raw from all the noises he made. It felt so good just being filled that he was almost scared to experience the older man’s thrusts.

When he looked up, he saw a man wanting to lose himself in his pleasure but frantically gripping to his calm for Peter’s sake, and_ fuck_, that did things to Peter that he didn’t want to admit. Then, there was the strained way Mr. Stark asked, ‘_How’s that, baby?_’ As if, despite his clear yearning for pleasure, he would have the strength to completely stop if Peter told him to. That did it for Peter too. “_It’s s__o good, Daddy._” Peter moaned out. His embarrassment over the sexual pet name nonexistent in this moment.

Mr. Stark didn’t ask to move. He just did. Pulling out far enough to leave the tip of his length in before steadily pushing back inside. Peter held his breath through the motion, and as he tried to exhale, it was happening again. The same, steady thrust that made his stomach clench. And then it happened again, and again, and again. And Peter wondered if he was even breathing anymore. Each thrust bringing him closer to that impassioned ending.

Then Mr. Stark shifted, pulling Peter’s leg on top of his shoulder to achieve a new angle. That new angle was Peter’s first undoing. With a single thrust, Peter was quivering. With another, Peter was screaming and coming thin ribbons across his own chest. The waves of his orgasm rushing his body in a blur and the warmth at his core bursting like fireworks against his skin. The sounds falling from Peter’s lips were breathy and hoarse. His face and chest were glistening in a layer of sweat. And, for a while, Mr. Stark remained still, gently guiding Peter through his peaking arousal, but then he wasn’t so careful.

“You came, baby.” Mr. Stark rolled his hips, slamming into Peter and sending electrifying over-stimulation through his body.

“Mr. Stark!” Peter screamed at the unexpectedly vicious thrust, his body still spasming from climax. “_Fuck_, that’s too much!”

The older man smirked, gripping tightly at Peter’s waist. “That’s not right, baby.” He gave three more of those thrusts, making Peter writhe in ecstasy.

“_Daddy,_” Peter whined, his mind filled with nothing but the man inside of him. “It’s too much, please!”

“You’re okay, baby boy,” Mr. Stark’s thrusts were relentless now. “You’re being so good for Daddy right now.”

Peter winced at the pleasure pain. Each thrust sending a dull throb and a cascade of bliss throughout his body. And he felt strange for letting this pain get him off, but he felt really safe with Mr. Stark. He knew he wouldn’t be judged, so he let himself feel it. All of it, especially the pain. “_Harder_, Daddy, do it _harder_.”

“Fuck,” The older man cursed, his body tensing at Peter’s pleads but obliging nonetheless. The spots where his hands held onto Peter’s pale, smooth skin undoubtedly bruising with the increased pace. “You’re such a needy slut, baby. You want Daddy to hurt you that badly?”

“Yes, please, _hurt me, hurt me,_” It was a nondescript request. Mr. Stark could have fulfilled it however he so desired. All Peter cared about was feeling it, and holy shit, did he feel it. He felt the older man’s hand on his hypersensitive cock. He felt the merciless thrusts. He felt the man’s other hand squeeze the underside of his jaw. Reflexively, he tried to inhale but when air didn’t rush his lungs, a tremor took over his entire body.

This was Peter’s second undoing. His voice strained, and his body ached, and his toes curled, and every nerve ending in his body was set ablaze. He was coming again. This time was harder than the last and paired with the indomitable sight of Tony Stark’s groaning orgasm. Peter was fucking delirious. Completely gone. Utterly ruined. Beyond recovery. His body and mind had given up, content to just lay there against the duvet, pupils blown and cum dribbling out his cock.

Compared to Peter, the older man seemed fine. His body was dewy with sweat and his breath was heavy. He was shaken by the intensity of the younger man’s fervor but present enough to pull out and tie the condom for disposal.

Mr. Stark leaned down and pressed kisses against Peter’s forehead, and his cheek, and his nose, chin, and mouth. Slowly coaxing Peter back to the land of the living. “Pete, are you okay?”

“Yeah,” Peter said, unconvincingly.

“Really?”

“No,” Peter breathed. “That was a lot.”

Mr. Stark’s face flashed a look of guilt, “Did I do something wrong?”

“No! You were really great! I just- I...that was my first time, and so, I’m just trying to get my head back to where it was.” Peter explained, his voice soft and discordant.

“Kid!” Mr. Stark exclaimed in surprise. “That was your- _fuck_, why didn’t you tell me?”

“I mean, I sort of hinted at it, but I didn’t think it was that important.” Peter kept his eyes trained on the ceiling, afraid his strange mix of emotions would overflow if he looked Mr. Stark in the eyes. “I just wanted to be with you.”

“But, like that- kid, you deserved something sweeter than that. I could’ve-”

“That’s the thing,” Peter’s face flushed. “I don’t think I like sweet, Mr. Stark.”

“Peter-”

“I liked it when you choked me,” Peter whispered. “And when you pulled my hair, and when you called me names, and now I can’t think straight because I’m worried that something might be wrong with me.”

“There’s absolutely nothing wrong with you, kid.” Mr. Stark laid beside Peter, pulling the younger man against his chest. “It’s okay to like those things. I like those things too.”

“Really?” Peter looked up, finally locking gazes with the older man.

“Yeah,” Mr. Stark smiled. “Maybe I’ll let you choke me one day so you can see how much.”

“Mr. Stark!” Peter giggled, his voice cracking.

“And maybe you can share some of those amazing blowjob techniques you have. Mind explaining where those came from?”

Peter hid his face again, muffling his laughter, “No! We don’t talk about that.”

Mr. Stark laughed too, “Well since we’re a couple now, I’m sure you’ll tell me eventually.”

“We’re a couple?” Peter’s head snapped up, a hopeful glint in his eyes.

Mr. Stark grinned, “After all that, I’d hope so.”

“But you didn’t ask,” Peter gave a playful pout.

The older man pressed a kiss against the younger man’s forehead. “Peter, will you do me the great honor of being my boyfriend?”

“So formal,” Peter smiled. “Yes, Mr. Stark. Since you asked so kindly, I’ll be your boyfriend.”

“_Since I asked so kindly_,” The older man humorously repeated. “Now, we just have to do one more thing.”

“What’s that?”

“Call me, Tony, kid.”

“Wha-? No! No, no, _no, no, no,_” Peter shook his head. “I can’t.”

“And why not?” Mr. Stark raised his brow.

“I don’t know! I just can’t.” Peter’s face went pink.

“Come on, just say it.”

“No.”

“Please. For me.”

“No.”

“Please, baby.”

Peter sighed with an embarrassed smile, “Okay, fine. T- T- To-” Peter tried but he couldn’t do it. “Nevermind! I can’t! It’s not happening.”

Mr. Stark scoffed, “You’re driving me crazy here, kid.”

~

“Tony!” Pepper exclaimed as she rounded the corner into Tony’s lab. “Your driver is here! What are you still doing in the lab? You’re late! This conference is important. I don’t want to hear any of your excuses this time. You-”

“My driver’s here?” Tony perked up, zeroing in on just one – and, arguably, the most important one – of Pepper’s sentences. He pulled the pair of safety goggles from atop his head, letting them clatter against the work desk as he asked, “How long has he been waiting?”

“Just a few minutes, why?” Pepper stood with a look of shock on her face as Tony quickly wrapped up his work, leaving the rest for DUM-E to clean up. “Wow, Tony Stark showing a sense of urgency, what brought this on?”

“Oh, nothing much, Pepper,” Tony smirked as he rolled his sleeves down, buttoning the cuffs and pulling on his suit jacket. “Just excited about that conference is all.”

“Sure you are,” Pepper crossed her arms, smelling Tony’s BS from a mile away. “Let’s just pretend I’ve never had to pull teeth to get you to show up to these events.”

Tony just grinned, following Pepper down the hall and into the elevator.

Pepper rolled her eyes with a smile, “Anyways, how’s the new driver? Any issues? I know you insisted on him, but don’t you think he’s a bit young to be driving one of your sports cars? Why don’t you start with a company SUV?” Pepper questioned, “And, be honest because I am tired of surprises, how close are you firing him?”

“He’s doing great, Pep. He’s the best driver I’ve ever had.” Tony eased her concerns. “I don’t see myself firing him at all. Ever.”

Pepper shook her head in disbelief, “Well, now I owe Rhodey twenty bucks. He said you would say that.” She laughed as she escorted Tony through the lobby. “Oh, and one last thing, here are your talking points,” She handed Tony a folder. “And the lunch you requested from that little bodega is already in the car.”

“Thanks, as always.” Tony gave a sly grin. “You should just take my place and go to the conference. I think you’ve earned it.”

“And let you laze around all day?” Pepper crossed her arms and laughed. “I think not. Now, go, get out of here before you smear the company name with your tardiness.”

Tony beamed as he exited Stark Tower and saw Peter sitting there, in the silver convertible, video chatting with his friends. “Hey, kid, you slacking on the job?”

Peter’s head snapped to Tony’s voice, “Not at all, Mr. Stark.”

From the phone, Ned and MJ’s voices could be heard making kissy noises and mocking Peter’s use of the ‘Mr. Stark’ moniker. “Guys! Oh my gosh, stop it, you’re so embarrassing. I’m hanging up, bye!” Peter hung up on them as Tony slid into the passenger seat.

“When are you going to properly introduce them to me, Pete?”

Peter revved the engine with an embarrassed smile on his face, “When they stop being children.”

The older man laughed, “And what about your Aunt May?”

“Oh, about that, actually- um...she wants you to come to dinner tonight. I mean, if you’re free, no pressure, I can just tell her no if-”

“I would love to,” Tony reached his hand out to cup Peter’s cheek. “But you’re driving.”

Peter shifted his face to press a small kiss into Tony’s hand, “Yes, Mr. Stark.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finished it! Again, thank you so much for reading! I really appreciate all the support here and on Tumblr, so leave me a comment and let me know how I did on this one. ^_^


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